


One Peaceful Moment

by Skalidra



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Cold Weather, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/pseuds/Skalidra
Summary: It isn't easy, but every once in awhile Dick can get Damian to slow down and really enjoy life. In those moments, he enjoys teaching his youngest brother, and former Robin, about the things he's never experienced in his unconventional upbringing. In this case, the joys of hot chocolate.





	

"Grayson, this is _ridiculous._ "

He smiles, ignoring the complaint except to shift closer and nudge Damian's shoulder with his arm. "How about you tell me all about why?" he invites, when Damian just grumbles and shoots him a sharp little glare in response to the physical closeness.

"Tt." Damian's tongue clicks, and he smiles a little wider because over the years he's deciphered that usually that sound means that Damian thinks what you're doing is 'ridiculous' (to use his words), but is going to go along with it anyway. "It is _cold_ , Grayson. We could be inside, by the fire, where it is warm and comfortable and there is no danger of _frostbite_. Clothing made of nothing but fluff and unhealthy, heated drinks of no nutritional value are hardly adequate protection against the temperatures out here."

"I think that's probably the most interesting way I've ever heard someone rephrase 'sweaters and hot chocolate,' " he teases. "You can always come closer if you're still cold, little prince."

Damian scoffs, chin lifting. "I do not need your assistance in staying warm." A pause, and then it continues with, "The snow is cold and _wet._ It would be warmer on the ground at least, Grayson; the roof is hardly the place to be. The ice is at least worthy of note; Pennyworth will be displeased if you slip and fall to your death."

"Just Alfred?" He lets go of his mug with one hand so he can wrap that arm around Damian's back and tug him in. There's an offended noise, but Damian curls into his side with no actual struggle. Doing anything with Damian is a little bit like handling a porcupine; if you just pet it right you'll be fine.

"I… may miss your frequent and incessantly determined irritations," Damian admits, sounding like it's pulling teeth to say even that.

He laughs, squeezing Damian harder for a moment. "I'd miss you too, Dami." He looks out across the manor grounds, raising his mug to take a sip of the hot chocolate, which is still almost-too-hot and just about perfect. He sees Damian take a sip as well, and turns his head to ask, "It's good though, right?"

Damian swallows, shifting the mug in his hands, and then finally admits, "Yes. It is… adequate."

He doesn't push his luck any further than that, just squeezes Damian for another moment and then eases. There are faint trills of bird song, but for the most part there's just a fresh, crisp silence in the air. The manor grounds are still, coated in snow except where the sweepers come through after every fall and clear off the driveway. It's overcast, but the midday sun is peeking through here and there, letting patches of sunlight play across the grounds. It's a slow, beautiful kind of stillness, and a really rare one. Gotham is almost never this quiet.

Damian shifts a little further into his side, and he glances down before just smiling and relaxing into the contact. He doesn't see Damian as much as he'd like anymore, not with his basically permanent station in Bludhaven, and _someone_ has to teach their little prince about the normal world. About sugar, and sweaters, and how to just relax and enjoy the moment. Talia sure didn't, and Bruce is great, really, but it doesn't often occur to him that Damian doesn't _know_ any of these things.

God, the _look_ on Damian's face during their first Christmas. He knew the dry facts about Christmas — that it was a holiday, that it was about the birth of a religious figure, that people cut down trees to celebrate it — but all the actual traditions were new to him. It was wonderful to teach him and terrible to _have_ to teach him all at the same time. Now Damian's a little more understanding of things like that, and a little less incredulous when he brings up something new that it turns out their prince didn't know about yet. He started out submitting to new things because he was concerned what might happen if he didn't go along with it — _damn_ the League, seriously — and finally, _finally_ , slipped into trying new things because he was curious about them.

He's so proud of how far Damian's come.

"How are your cases in Bludhaven?" Damian asks eventually, when they're both about halfway through the mugs of hot chocolate, and all the marshmallows on the top have dissolved into nothing.

He gives a little shake of his head. "No, no work right now. We can do that on patrol later."

Damian instantly perks up, head twisting to look up at him. "You are staying for patrol? Tonight?"

"Well I wasn't going to come through Gotham and _not_ spend a night with you, little prince. Yeah, of course I am." He considers for a moment, and then adds, "Also, Bruce and Tim have some edge-of-the-city lead they want to follow, so he asked me to cover regular patrol tonight with you. I would have come with anyway, but multitasking, you know?"

"Of course," Damian agrees primly. "Gotham does not wait for anyone, even those of our number. Father told me he would be gone tonight, but did not mention that you would be replacing him as my partner."

"Probably was planning on briefing everybody at once, later on. More efficient that way."

"Accurate." Damian takes another sip of the hot chocolate. "Grayson, this has become lukewarm. Whatever limited protection against the cold it gave before is no longer occurring; I shall require a refreshment."

"I think we can do that." He lifts his own mug, draining the rest of it in one swallow and then shifting away and getting to his feet. "How about we head downstairs, little prince? We can go curl up by the fire and watch a movie. Sound good to you?"

Damian takes his hand when it's offered, getting to his feet as well and then carefully stepping further in on the roof and away from the edge. "I suppose I could be convinced to indulge you." A sharp look. "Will there be popcorn?"

He smiles. "I'll even get Alfred to heat up some sugar to go over it. It's delicious, trust me."

"Tt. Well, your judgment has not been absolutely terrible so far." Damian stalks past him, towards the roof entrance. "I will consent to try it."

It takes some effort not to laugh — Damian is not at _all_ threatening in the fluffy white sweater, or with the way his nose is red from the cold — but he manages it thanks to lots of practice and follows Damian into the house, sighing at the warmer interior. Not by a whole lot, but the further they get into more usually inhabited parts of the manor the warmer it will get. Heating the _whole house_ would be insane, especially since most of it doesn't see regular use.

"We will require blankets," Damian announces suddenly, not even looking back. "It is necessary."

This time he does laugh. "You got it, Dami."


End file.
